


A Most Ardent Suit

by George_Sand_II



Category: Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: 18th century dates, David Livesey, Fluff, John Trelawney - Freeform, M/M, This will eventually have multiple chapters, Treasure Island, honestly they are both idiots but they are sweet idiots, just two old gay men getting together in 18th century england what of it, listen I will make this the sweetest fluff I have ever written, pastoral idyll, sort of mutual pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/George_Sand_II/pseuds/George_Sand_II
Summary: Safe and well, and wealthy, back home in England, six months after their fateful watch at the stockade, Doctor David Livesey and Squire John Trelawney finally manage to break out of their status quo. Soon, the latter begins to press his suit with uncommon vigour.Aka. David Livesey and John Trelawney are the best ship in the entirety of the novel and I will steer this magnificent vessel myself if I must. Directly a continuation of Middle Watch by Verecunda, with the blessing of the author.





	1. The Lark Ascending

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one - in which both parties realise they have been fools, and Livesey shows how much of a tease he can be.

’Twas a fine time of day indeed to ride along the winding path through the heather, Doctor David Livesey noted to himself as he was performing that very activity, and a fine weather for it too. High above him the pale spring sun shone with not a cloud to obstruct her, and all that was green and blossoming upon the earth seemed to reach for her. Finer still was the way the rays painted a bright golden hue upon the grand pale walls of the Trelawney estate. Perhaps, just now, John Trelawney was staring out onto the path to spy him from a distance…

Livesey smiled at himself. It was no use thinking like this, no use whatsoever. Here they were, back in England, so far removed from that one stray moment in the stockade upon that wretched island, and the mind of the squire seemed to have wandered too far from what had been spoken, and done, that first evening they had spent together in hell. Livesey did not blame him – could not – and besides, what use should that be? They had both comfortably fallen back into the routines of their friendship, perhaps, in the beginning, there had been a feeling of uneasy, awkward hope in Livesey, but now they had settled, and who was he to desire more? And if Trelawney did call on him for dinner and luncheon more often than he used to before the venture, it was hardly the ardent pressing of his suit that he had promised on that evening. So, ever the master of his emotions, Livesey had done what he had become so adept at; he had folded up his feelings neatly, and pocketed them.  


As he rode up to the manor, he could see out of the corner of his eye a figure vanishing from the window of the parlour.

Trelawney received him in the hall, with outstretched arms and a wide smile, quite the same as he always did. Livesey huffed, himself unable to suppress a little smile at the excitable manners of the other. It was in times like these, when Trelawney was at his most honest, showing upon his sleeve every ounce of emotion, that he endeared himself most urgently to Livesey, and caused a sting in his heart at the knowledge that he could never express this very fact to the man.

“My good doctor!” with a genuine warmth in his eyes, Trelawney lowered himself in an elegant, sweeping bow, which Livesey did his best imitation of in return. Between friends this might seem awfully formal, but for them it was almost as good as an embrace, he found. The squire continued, once the doctor was relieved of cloak and hat, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the afternoon? I would have you know, I am most grateful for it, sir!”

Livesey could for once give a pleased smile at the thought of his duties, for they had not been as strenuous on this day as they might tend to be, “An ebb has occurred in the number of patients requiring my care as of late, although I daresay that will not last for long. With such an early spring it is certain that even with my reminders, people shall forget themselves and open their summer wardrobe.”

“Sometimes, Livesey, I do wish you would dwell upon the positives without infusing them with the inevitability of future negatives, enjoy your freedom while it is afforded you.” Trelawney led him through the halls of the stately home, past imposing gold-framed portraits of his ancestors, to the parlour. There was a fire in the hearth to ward off the gentle chill of spring, and the ever-present mists of the heather, and a half-drunken glass of brandy stood on the windowsill, left carelessly, and in quite a hurry, by its drinker.

There was something strangely hesitant about the squire as they sat down in their usual comfortable chair, Livesey immediately setting to stuffing his pipe and lighting it on a well-placed candle. Trelawney kept on eyeing him, seemingly wishing to speak, but not finding his words. The doctor knew that look upon his face.

“Out with it then, my good sir,” Livesey ordered, “Out with it, and may it leave your mind easier.”

“It is six months to the day, Livesey,” started Trelawney, the words seeming to leave him almost on their own accord, “Since that evening at the stockades on Treasure Island.”

Livesey blinked, and took a pull on his pipe, “I confess I had not given it much thought, but yes, now that you mention it I suppose it is.” he let out a stream of pearly-white smoke, feigning calmness, “And what of it?”

“Six months, and all I have managed to show for it is cowardice!” Trelawney stood, suddenly seeming agitated, his gaze now evading Livesey’s. The squire made his way to the window, leaning against the windowsill with his head hanging.

The doctor left his pipe upon the table between their chairs, and went to him slowly, “Now, now John Trelawney, of all things in this world I know better than anyone that there is not an ounce of true cowardice within you.” not entirely on accident, he turned and leaned his lower back upon the windowsill, wanting the light to be as favourable to himself as possible, “And if you are afraid, would it help you to know that you do, in fact, have nothing to fear?”

A deep, shuddering sigh left the squire, sounding not unlike one that held the relief of six month’s uncertainties, “God, Livesey, had I only had the courage to ask you.”

“You were being careful, John, and that is a virtue I pride myself on having instilled in you,” Livesey reached out to pat the squire’s hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, certainly that was the intention behind it, “Besides, I myself might have shortened your agony, had I not become so complacent in our old status quo.”

For a moment, there was only silence. A companionable, comfortable silence. Then their eyes finally met, and a moment later Trelawney winked, “Might I implore, David, for us to find a new status quo to grow complacent in?” now that his fears had been vanquished, he seemed far more… eager. The kind of eagerness one might find in a child bursting to unwrap a gift, or a lovestruck young man breathlessly awaiting the first kiss from his sweetheart.

Livesey smiled and hummed in thought. Then, he took up the half-empty glass of brandy and sipped it, almost challengingly. They both knew whose lips had been where he now placed his. Trelawney was staring at him with wide eyes and a grin when he lowered the glass, and the doctor raised a brow at him, “I am a little busy at the moment, I am afraid.” he was barely able to restrain himself from laughing outright at the way Trelawney’s face fell in utter confusion, “For you see, I am expecting a suit to be pressed upon me with uncommon vigour, and I find it is rather overdue.”

“Oh.” Trelawney breathed, then, with a fare more humorous gleam to his eyes, and a grin on his face that might well be accused of being a tad silly, he continued, “Oh, you utter scoundrel!”

The doctor responded merely with emptying the glass of the remaining brandy, careful not to show on his countenance that which might otherwise have been revealed. After all, he found that triumph was a rather unflattering look on the faces of most men, and this did include himself.


	2. Fantasia on Greensleeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Trelawney unveils a secret of his gardens, and romance unfurls under Venus' watchful eye.

It was on the very next afternoon that Trelawney began to press his suit in earnest, wishing, Livesey suspected, not to lose a single moment longer than he already had dawdled away with his sudden prudence. That, of course, had entirely vanished now. The squire was sending him eyes over his book as they sat in the library and studied each their subject, and that to such a degree that Livesey had little doubt that the valet who was placed in the corner well enough could sense what was occurring. He himself did his outmost to stay unmoved by the looks he was being sent, and resolutely focused on the treatise in his hand. It was really very interesting.

“I did not expect to find newer medical literature in your collection, I confess, Trelawney.” Livesey licked his forefinger and carefully turned a page, before he glanced up at the squire. Unsurprisingly, the man was digging his way through a travelling book; Journal du Voyage de Siam, by the Abbé de Choisy. Livesey had never read it, but he had seen it many times in the hands of Trelawney.

“I have a subscription.” replied the squire, raising a brow at the doctor when he could not help but to let out a surprised noise, “Why so shocked, sir? A library exists to be expanded.”

Livesey hummed in thought, finally giving up on his book. Rheumatology was an interesting subject, but at the moment he had something slightly more intriguing on his hands, “On that I could not agree more. Even so, a subscription to the Medical Society of London? Why, sir, I did not think you had an interest?”

With a resolute snap, Trelawney closed his book, no doubt losing his page, “’Tis a very recent interest, doctor. And one which is in addition very fervent, if I may say so myself, and has been long underway.”

“Aha.” said the doctor, for once unsure of how to proceed. He was being flirted with, catered to, even gifted. This he was not accustomed to. This, he did know what to do with.

Seemingly, Trelawney sensed his apprehension, and, bless the man, he was quick to make an effort to do away with it. The squire rose from his chair, and put his book aside, “Doctor Livesey, do me the honour of joining me for a walk in the gardens, if you would be so kind?”

Unsure of where exactly this was headed, and quite eager to discover it, Livesey marked his page and put down the treatise, “Rather good weather for it, sir, I do think myself agreeable to the notion of a walk. Your gardens, I trust, are as beautiful as ever?”

“If not, they certainly shall be soon. The presence of the right person, I am told, is the whole secret to a landscape.” Trelawney took the liberty of winking, and Livesey huffed at him, something he had very often done before. It was not an annoyed or irate sound, nor a sound of great frustration. It was soft, like a sigh, and by now Trelawney had learnt to take it as the good doctor’s manner of smiling when he wished to conceal a true smile.

Clad still in heavy woollen cloaks, although by now they were almost too warm, the two made their way through one of the gravel paths in the gardens, with Trelawney leading the way. Suddenly, the squire veered from the path, towards a grove of trees. The ground was slippery with the remnants of rain which had fallen earlier that day, and the ground tapered downwards slightly, not quite in a slope but enough of a drop to make the doctor remain standing on the path, lingering.

“Is this quite wise, John?”

Trelawney turned, and smiled at him, “Wisdom is not my strongest suit, and I readily admit it, but come now, David! There is something you must see, that I do not believe I have shown you before.” he held out a glove-clad hand towards Livesey, and that was what made the doctor yield. Hesitantly, he reached out, his breath escaping him in a shaky sigh the moment his hand nestled safely in the grasp of John’s, and he took a step away from the path, out onto the damp grass, to join him.

The doctor found himself led by the hand through the treeline, and a while they walked together between the long, sturdy trunks of ash and oak, now hand in hand next to one another. At some point, Livesey knew not quite when, Trelawney’s fingers entwined with his, and even with the leather of their gloves as a barrier between their skin, it was enough to cause Livesey’s heart to gallop, and his cheeks to grow warm.

“Here we are.” Trelawney suddenly announced, almost making Livesey jump. Had he really been so absorbed by so small a touch?

“Ah,” the doctor gasped softly, “I daresay, is this a temple of Diana?”

It was a beautiful white marble structure, small and somewhat dainty, with pillars and open sides. Not much in terms of shelter from the wind, but a stunning little curiosity. There was a statue within, on a plinth, but he was not well-versed enough in the legends of the gods of antiquity to ascertain who it was. A lady, certainly, and Greek by her dress.

“No,” said Trelawney, his eyes gleaming with playful mirth, as they scaled the steps and stepped into the structure, “Of Venus.”

At that, the good doctor felt his face grow hot, and he knew all too well that his face was now painted with a blush, which no doubt pleased the squire greatly. Not a moment did he have to recover his wits, before they were thoroughly scrambled again by the warmth of Trelawney’s arms around his waist. Their progress was slow, each of them breathlessly heeding the other, coming together inch by inch, until they properly embraced. Livesey, being the shorter one by almost a full five inches, had a hand resting on either of Trelawney’s shoulders, whereas both the squire’s hands were now placed flat upon the doctor’s lower back. Like this they lingered for several moments. Then, as if of one mind, each reached up to remove his tricorne, so that they would not cause inconvenience, and a moment later their lips met.

The kiss they had shared upon the stockade had barely been a kiss at all, just a second of time where there was nothing between them. This was barely more than that, a gentle little thing, almost insecure. As though they were both testing the ice, to see if it would bear.

Livesey was the first to speak, “You always did have an aptitude for the theatrical, my dear.” it was the first time he had called him as such, and he could not help but feel that it might very well be the first time he had called anyone as such, “I wonder, all the same, would she approve?”

“Whom?” for a moment, Trelawney seemed confused. Then he chuckled, a warm sound, that could well be called loving, by Livesey’s reckoning, “Venus, do you mean? I think you will find that she approves most heartily. Now, if you will permit…” with those words, he leaned in again, and this time it was very much a kiss, more of a kiss than Livesey had allowed himself in all his years.

The doctor did, very happily, permit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Medical Society of London wasn't founded until 1773, and this can, by my reckoning, take place in 1765 at the latest, but I hope you'll forgive this.
> 
> Also, if you are wondering about the chapter titles, they are named after whichever Vaughan-Williams composition I am listening to while writing, simply because I am bad with chapter titles.


	3. Sir John in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John Trelawney proves that he is incorrigible, and David Livesey needs more damn tobacco to cope with this tomfoolery.

It was only Wednesday, the doctor noted to himself, and already the fourth occurrence of its kind within the week. Not that Livesey minded as such, but it was becoming a habit, and he had always been wary of habits with no apparent downside. There usually was some kind of drawback somewhere. Still, right in this moment, with the squire stretched out beside him like a well-pleased cat – the first part, he noted with some smugness, wasn’t entirely far from the truth – it very much seemed as though there was no downsides to this particular habit. Trelawney purred and turned, wrapping an arm around the doctor’s midsection, and nuzzling the side of his face against his chest. The doctor, in turn, smiled softly and placed his arm around the squire’s shoulders, the very tips of his fingers brushing along his upper arm in an affectionate caress.

“Must you smoke after the act?” asked Trelawney, glancing up at Livesey who was, indeed, in the midst of taking a pipe.

The doctor chuckled earnestly in a huff of white smoke, “The act? Such a way with words you have, John.” he leaned back against the headboard, basking in the sharp but pleasant light of the afternoon sun. Even with the season nearing summer, the sunlight was nowhere near as hot and unpleasant as it had been on that accursed isle, “But to answer your question, no, I mustn’t strictly, not if it goes much against you.”

“I do not mind; I was merely wondering if it brings you some manner of satisfaction.” when all Livesey did for a reply was to give another huff of smoke and wriggle his brows, the squire huffed in turn and pushed himself up by his elbows to be at level with the doctor, “Seven bells, David, you are drolling with me! Now answer: does it?” filled, by the looks of him, with equal measures stubbornness and genuine curiosity, the squire rested his chin on Livesey’s shoulder, and looked up at him through his lashes.

Oh, blast it, he never could uphold his teasing for very long, not with this man, “Not in and of its own, I suppose, no. However, it serves to prolong the satisfaction I have already attained.”

“Ah, now that you speak of satisfaction…”

The tone in the squire’s voice made the doctor momentarily freeze. It was excitable as ever, yet somewhat careful, as though he had done something of which he was quite certain Livesey would not approve. Taking a deep, calming pull on his pipe, Livesey looked down at the man who had ever so comfortably tucked himself into the crook of his arm, “What have you done now?”

“I have purchased a ship! A truly magnificent vessel!” answered the squire, practically glowing.

“You –“ Livesey stopped himself, and began to untangle his limbs from the squire’s, “I fear I shall need more tobacco in order to brave this conversation.” Released from Trelawney’s grip only with great reluctance from the squire’s side, Livesey leaned over to his pouch on the bedside drawer, and stuffed his pipe again. Once he had lit it in the flickering candle flame, he fell back into his place on the bed, and immediately Trelawney’s arms were slung around him again, “What ever could you need another ship for? You already own the Hispaniola.”

Trelawney shook his head at the doctor, clearly far too excited to be put down by anything his old friend could douse him with, “She will not do; far too small to be an East Indiaman in any capacity.”

A sudden and quite shocked coughing shook the doctor as he accidentally swallowed his smoke instead of inhaling it, “An East Indiaman?! John, have you gone completely insane?” the doctor sat up properly, despite the squire’s best attempts at keeping him in place, and his disappointed groan when he failed. Livesey was merciless, “Do you even remember how much trouble we all went through in order to get to that wretched island and back? And that was just the West Indies, what you are proposing involves sailing all the way around the continent of Africa, and then –“

“Yes, thank you David, I am well aware of the nature of the voyage I intend for this ship to undertake.” Said the squire, his face mostly buried in the pillow, “Worry not, old friend, I do not intend to ask you to come, nor, indeed, to go myself. No. I am far too old for such a venture now, though I dare hope you might suggest otherwise.”

“You hope in vain.” Livesey took another pull on his pipe, this time a very pointedly stern one. How he managed to express his discontent through smoke inhalation, Trelawney would never understand. Fact remained that he did.

The squire sighed and flopped onto his back with sheer exasperation painted on his features, “David, my love, must I wrap myself in cotton and never go out of doors to satisfy you?”

Beside him, the doctor grew rapidly milder, “Of course not, the out of doors is quite healthy for the human constitution. However, that notion about the cotton…”

“Ohhhh.” Groaned the squire and pulled the covers up over his face, “Dofht stfprh norrf.”

“John, dear, I cannot understand what you are saying when you have a mouth full of duvet.” Said the doctor. He sighed and looked down at his pipe with displeasure – his tobacco had burned out. Oh, well, it was probably best to leave it that way. He gingerly put the pipe onto the small dresser next to the bed, and then resolutely and without even a trace of mercy pulled down the covers, exposing a very bare Trelawney all the way to the knees, while remaining quite snug himself.

Trelawney let out and undignified squeak and tried to pull the covers back over himself, while Livesey chose to hang on to them. What ensued was a somewhat childish tug-of-war over a duvet and a blanket, and a fair deal of undignified giggling – and not all of it from the squire. Still sniggering, Livesey pulled hard enough to finally throw Trelawney out of balance, which resulted in the squire suddenly pinning him down onto the mattress.

“I say,” said Livesey smugly, “What an interesting turn of events. How ever shall we proceed, I wonder?”

He did not have to wonder very long before Trelawney leaned down to kiss him.


	4. 4. Dives and Lazarus

On a fine summer’s eve, some months after their affair had taken speed at long last, Livesey was hurrying up the steps two at a time, headed for the library where they usually had their rendez-vous. At least, it usually started there. He wasn’t hurrying because there was any reason to hurry, merely because now he was here and he wished to waste no further of the precious time he had in which to embrace his squire. It was strange, he mused as he pushed open the heavy oaken door to the book-clad room, how he had come to regard Trelawney now as somehow his…

The moment he spotted the squire, he put his hands on his hips and looked at the man sternly, “Out with it,” he said, “You are quite discovered, and I can see that something is amiss.”

Before him, Trelawney sighed deeply, and his shoulders, which he had squared up in his futile attempt at pretending all was well, sagged, “It’s my ship,” he admitted reluctantly. He needn’t to say any more, Livesey could tell from the way the poor man held his eyes.

“I am sorry, John,” the doctor said, now turning from stern to soft in an instant, “Ships go down, we all know it, but I am genuinely saddened that this misfortune befell you.” Of all people, the squire had deserved some success, after all he had been through, “At least the Hispaniola yet remains.”

Trelawney was quite silent, but the silence never lasted long for the man could not brood without sharing with whoever was present what weighed on his mind, “She is also nigh on the only thing that remains from that unfortunate venture. Woe me, that I made such a poor investment!” he crossed his arms with a petulant huff, “Oh, if only I could reach back and give myself a good boxing round the ears!”

Honestly sorry though he might be on his lover’s behalf, Livesey still could not help his amusement at how the man took this defeat. Trelawney had never been a dignified winner, but he was even worse a loser, “Now, now. All investments that fail seem foolish once they have done so, even those that were sound when they were made.” Deliberately, he left out his own opinion on the original soundness of this particular venture.

“You warned me all the same, David, so you did. And you were in the right of it as always.” Grumbled the brooding squire.

“Honestly, John, it becomes me ill to see you like this.” Said Livesey, seating himself next to the squire, “Certainly, I would have myself embarked on safer ventures, but had yours succeeded, as it might well have done, I should have been the one with all my worries put to shame.”

“Yes, only you weren’t, were you,” Trelawney insisted, “You were right again, just as you always are, and I should have listened to you.”

Livesey chuckled, “Oh, you never do, so why on earth should you have started then?” he reached over and tenderly placed a hand on the squire’s knee, “Come now, John, where is your sanguine temper disappeared to? Always I have known to rely on it. Does it now require realigning?” he said the last with a gleam in his eyes, and just as he had expected the reaction came promptly.

“Lord in the heavens no!” Trelawney shivered at the thought, “I was bloodlet by you once, and I will thank you never to do that again!”

“It worked, though, did it not?” asked Livesey, quite pleased with having redirected the conversation so efficiently. It was always better to not let John dwell for too long at a time on whatever misfortune might have befallen him.

“That is beside the point,” insisted the squire, “No, I am in perfect health, David, as well you know. Just by leagues a poorer man than I was when I woke up this morning!” he eyes Livesey’s hand on his knee, as his grumbling turned from earnest to simply stubborn. It was ebbing, at last, and something else was entering Trelawney’s mind. This, too, Livesey had foreseen.

Proving that he enjoyed a little game as much as the next man, he now withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair, “Well, if it is money you lack then I have quite a bit of my own stowed aside, and my share has multiplied. As much as I have tried, I do not at all know how to spend it.”

“I am not going to take your money, no matter how firmly you shove it at me! No, sir, I will earn it back myself through sheer hard work!” huffed Trelawney decisively. Livesey couldn’t help himself. He laughed, leaving the squire quite perturbed, “What? What is it that amuses you so? Do not laugh at me but tell me why!”

“It is merely that my mind insisted…” Livesey paused to suppress a snigger, “My mind pictured you ahead of a pair of oxen, pulling a plough, and it may be the most humorous thing I have seen in all my days!” indeed, picturing the squire doing any form of manual labour was an amusing notion. The man was not at all suited for it, stocky though he might be. He was far too delicate, and too gentle no less. Too sweet, too kind… the doctor had to stop himself before he got lost in these thoughts, as he was prone to do. He found himself smiling softly at the squire, who returned the look.

A warm, soft hand was placed upon his own, giving them a squeeze as they lay clasped in his lap. Trelawney had ever known when and how to return him to the present when he got lost in his own thoughts, “Do you know,” said the squire gently, “I’d quite like to kiss you, if I may?”

Softly, and almost inaudibly, a little ‘Oh’ escaped Livesey, “By now you must know that you no longer need to ask permission.”

“I still like to receive it,” answered Trelawney, “You make it feel quite like an extraordinary gift every time.” With that, he leaned in, and kissed the doctor as softly as he ever had. Sighing against the squire’s lips, Livesey found himself just as starved for this as Trelawney, even though they had seen each other as recently as the day before. The kiss grew heated, it was deepened, and when a soft and wanton sound escaped Livesey, it was broken.

Both caught their breaths, and looked at each other with understanding, “I think, perhaps, we should consider a change in locale?” suggested the squire at length.

“I am quite of your mind, John,” answered the doctor, trying and failing not to pant, “Do lead the way.”


End file.
